


And You Can Tell Everybody, This Is Your Song

by Newts_Loki



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Asexual Aziraphale (Good Omens), Asexual Character, Asexual Crowley (Good Omens), Asexual Relationship, Dancing, First Kiss, Fluff, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Light Angst, Love Confessions, M/M, No Sex, No Smut, Other, Snow, Winter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-19
Updated: 2019-09-19
Packaged: 2020-10-21 13:35:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20694404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Newts_Loki/pseuds/Newts_Loki
Summary: Post - Armageddon. Crowley decides he can't keep his feelings hidden any longer and decides to tell Aziraphale. Fluff and dancing.





	And You Can Tell Everybody, This Is Your Song

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hirohamadugh](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hirohamadugh/gifts).

> The song in this fic is, as you probably guessed, Your Song. I got the idea listening to Taron Egerton's version from the Rocketman soundtrack and it became this, so I hope you like it!

_It's a little bit funny, this feeling inside_  
  
Crowley was fidgeting. In fact he'd been fidgeting and pacing for what felt like (likely because it had been) hours. He had invited Aziraphale over tonight to celebrate a year of the Armageddon - that - wasn't. He hadn't specified this of course when he'd first asked him to come over, so when Aziraphale mentioned it on the phone earlier that week, Crowley simply feigned surprise and said, "Well. What a coincidence." while simultaneously glancing at the anniversary clearly stated on his calender and smirking to himself. It was, in fact, a very helpful excuse.   
  
_I'm not one of those who can easily hide_

As his human body busied itself with the feeling of butterflies and he double - checked he had the chocolates and their favourite wine, Crowley tried and failed to pretend to himself that Aziraphale wasn't the cause of his nervousness. He placed the red rose and lavender bouquet he had bought for him on the black marble coffee table.   
  
He'd come to the conclusion after one soft glance too many that he was going to tell the angel it wasn't just friendship he felt for him, it was- quite a bit more. And today was the day. He had given up trying to ignore and play off the warmth he felt when Aziraphale did so much as smile at him, because now that they were free of above and below maybe- he cursed himself for imagining it but maybe they had a chance? He was just desperate not to ruin things. They were all the other had now. Their side was the only one either wanted, or could, be on now. So they had to stick together- didn't they? They had chosen the other, after all. In whatever that meant.  
  
_I don't have much money, but boy if I did_  
  
_I'd buy a big house where we both could live_  
  
As he watched the sun begin to set, and seven o'clock draw ever nearer, his nerves only grew. Grew like the plants in the next room, and just as fearful. He hoped he hadn't read the signs wrong. He desperately hoped he hadn't read them wrong. He'd had 6000 years to figure this out and still he found himself doubting. One moment he was certain, the next he was telling himself it was just wishful thinking. The words 'you go too fast' ringing in the back of his mind. But maybe Aziraphale was allowing himself to hope for more, now that they were free from the clutches of Heaven and Hell? Maybe.  
  
Selfishly, he didn't want to be alone again. Couldn't bear the thought of being alone. Even before Hell, before the Fall, Crowley had felt alone. He might've fit in above with his appearance, his golden eyes and pupils filled with galaxies- perfect for a star maker. His long hair- still ginger red then- sprinked with gold flecks, but inside Crowley had never felt a connection with the plain, bleak whiteness that had always been Heaven, even back then. The loneliness returned when he believed Aziraphale to be ripped from him. The pain of it had been worse than falling, and falling had felt like his entire being was being torn and burned to chars. He never wanted to experience such a feeling again. He wasn't sure if he could bear it. But if Aziraphale didn't return his feelings, he would try, as a friend. He couldn't leave Aziraphale if he tried.  
  
_If I was a sculptor, but then again, no_  
  
_Or a man who makes potions in a traveling show_  
  
_I know it's not much, but it's the best I can do_  
  
_My gift is my song, and this one's for you_   
  
He just hoped that he was enough. Could be ever be enough? Wasn't it his very nature not to be? Even now that he had betrayed Hell. He was still Fallen. Still a demon. Still a let down to Her. A demon wishing for an angel to feel what he felt too- he would've laughed if he didn't feel like he'd be sick. Cursing to himself in his empty flat he tried to remind himself of all the times Aziraphale had shown he may have felt the same. Rome. The Globe Theatre. St James' Park? The Ritz. Aziraphale did like him, he knew that. So why did he feel so overwhelmed?  
  
Crowley realised he'd lost track of time when he glanced at his watch, seven o'clock was mere minutes away. Time went fast on Earth when you didn't want it too. He went to triple check everything again when- a tapping at his door. Fuck.  
  
Taking a moment to breathe, he reached for the chocolates and the rose and lavender bouquet- he didn't know whether to hope for or dread the idea that Aziraphale might know their meaning... love, devotion- and sauntered in his usual way over to the door, confident yet currently terrified. "Crowley!" Aziraphale said cheerfully, as if he hadn't seen the demon in decades, in reality he had seen him just a day previous. A late night drink in the bookshop, to be precise. Upon seeing his smile Crowley's nerves simultaneously seeped away and banged at his heart. "Hey, angel" he said, a smile appearing on his own face too. He found he smiled more these days when Aziraphale was around. Maybe it was relief that no one was watching them anymore. Maybe it was- well.   
  
They stood there in silence for a moment before Crowley pushed the chocolates and flowers nearer to Aziraphale and said, "Got you something. It's not much but-" he blushed and looked anywhere but the angel in front of him, who had gone silent staring at the gift in his hands. Crowley began to panic. Did he figure it out? Did he not like the gift? Did- "They're perfect, my dear." Taking a sniff of the bouquet he did that smile that made Crowley feel warmth a demon shouldn't feel and made his eyes sparkle like the constellations Crowley had woven into the sky so long ago - beautiful, he thought. But beautiful was too weak a word if he was honest with himself. "These flowers, they're simply divine." The angel continued. Suddenly the floor seemed fascinating to Crowley who's face was feeling increasingly warm.  
  
_And you can tell everybody this is your song_  
  
_It may be quite simple, but now that it's done_  
  
_I hope you don't mind, I hope you don't mind that I put down in words_  
  
_How wonderful life is while you're in the world_  
  
"Come on in, then." He said, walking over to the sofa he had recently bought to accommodate the increasing nights he and Aziraphale would now spend having a glass of wine here in the evening. It was pushed up against the back wall of the room, giving them a breathtaking view of London and the sky above. In the right corner of the room was a black record player, although no music drifted from it right now. It had become a comfortable room over time, a deep red carpet in the middle of the room with a black coffee table in front of the sofa. Leonardo Da Vinci sketches were framed along the far wall. Crowley knew Aziraphale liked feeling cosy, and since they were spending more time here than ever before he saw no reason not to decorate a bit. Aziraphale followed, and soon they were both relaxing into the black, sleek sofa in a room in his flat which had previously been empty. "Wine?" he asked. "Oh, yes please!"  
  
He wandered off to find glasses, and when he returned he saw Aziraphale rummaging around. Finding the sight rather amusing, he thought he'd give himself a break from the panic of the night and see how this unfolded. A demon expressing their feelings was no easy feat. Aziraphale seemed quite panicked, checking side pockets and back pockets and even behind the sofa for reasons the demon couldn't fathom.   
  
Beginning to feel bad, he stepped forward, only for Aziraphale to let out an, "Ah! There you are" and take a box out of his pocket which he held carefully. "You alright?" he asked, walking towards his flustered other half. "Yes, everything is tickety boo" Tickety- right. The last time Aziraphale had said that was in an odd, flustered state in front of his bookshop. "Everything is fine, I promise. Please sit down, Crowley dear, I have something- I bought you a gift." So Crowley sat. And tried not to let the warm feeling in his chest show on his face, thank- well someone- his glasses were still on. "What is it?" he asked, voice wavering ever so slightly. "You'll have to open it and see" Aziraphale beemed, the light of the dim lamp and the moonlight combining to cast a wonderful glow across his face. He was truly ethereal. "Well- thank you, angel." Aziraphale looked somewhat panicked at this, "Please, not yet, you haven't even looked." And somehow it reminded him of the incident with the holy water in 1967. Only this time it seemed Aziraphale was opening himself up to Crowley, rather than holding himself at a distance.   
  
_I sat on the roof and kicked off the moss_  
  
_Well, a few of the verses, well, they've got me quite cross_  
  
_But the sun's been quite kind while I wrote this song_  
  
_It's for people like you that keep it turned on_  
  
Taking off his sunglasses, he slowly took the small box from Aziraphale's hands, a feeling like fire brushing his fingers where they met. He hesitated, mouth suddenly feeling dry. Gifts were not a thing down below. Of course being self indulgent was applauded. But giving? Not common practice. Unless you were being given orders, that is. And so despite all these years of Christmas gifts and housewarming gifts, receiving a present from someone- especially the angel beside him- always felt quite thrilling. He'd never admit it, but he never denied it either. Aziraphale, who looked almost close to discorporating with nerves, was staring at Crowley with a look that said, 'I care you for you, truly, but one more second not opening my gift and there's going to be trouble'. Without another thought, Crowley glanced down at the small black silk box and opened it up.  
  
Inside was a small ring, was it- yes, a pinky ring- and almost identical to Aziraphale's. However instead of gold, this ring was a deep black- in fact Crowley wasn't sure the material was earthly at all.  
The symbol of a snake was engraved where Aziraphale's had a crest. It shone like the scales of his snake form under the glow of the moon, and before Crowley realised he was doing so, he felt a tear slip down his cheek.   
  
For some reason it felt like Aziraphale was choosing him. Before he'd even opened his mouth to express his feelings. And he realised this really wasn't the first time either. Aziraphale had chosen him when he gave Crowley holy water. He had chosen him when he had worked with him to stop Armageddon. He had chosen him after. He felt a thumb rub across his cheek, and had to stop himself melting into the touch. Hope was dangerous for Crowley. Hope meant he had something he feared loosing. And long ago he had realised loosing Aziraphale was something he could not bear thinking of.  
  
"Crowley- I'm sorry is it- I'm sorry I thought you might like it, if it's not g-" Crowley couldn't have that, "Aziraphale." He interrupted, placing a hand on his cheek over Aziraphale's, "There's no need for an apology. I just, em, just never get presents like this. Especially not from anyone I care about so it's just-" He paused, taking in a breath he didn't physically need, but which reassured him all the same, "I love it." He sighed. The relief on Aziraphale's face was a balm to Crowley's heart, "Oh! Oh I'm so glad."

"We're matching now" He said, wiggling in his seat. He looked down at the ring and at Crowley's hand with a look that said, "May I?" Crowley simply nodded, because coherent thought was getting more and more difficult by the minute. He slipped the ring onto Crowley's pinky. A physical sign that they were on their own side.

It made Crowley feel a little more bold, and before he could stop himself- "Would you like to dance? With me, I mean." Aziraphale's eyes widened, with what Crowley couldn't quite tell. He stood up, hand outstretched and hopeful. "If it's too f-" He started to ask, being cut short as Aziraphale placed a hand in his. "Not at all." He positively glowed, "Let's dance."   
  
Trying to push the thought of _this is something big_ to the back of his mind, he helped Aziraphale up. This wasn't how he had planned the night to go, but he decided he was quite enjoying it. Aziraphale accepting his offer of a dance? Crowley couldn't quite believe he had gotten so lucky. A year previous he didn't think he'd see the angel ever again. He was guided out of his thoughts by a hand on his waist. "Crowley? Dear, are you quite alright?" He blinked, looking into the angels eyes, frozen by the sudden touch of a hand and the question he didn't know the answer too. And again with the _dear._ "I- uh. Yea, yea I'm fine, angel. Sorry, just- Remembering old times. S' all."  
  
Aziraphale's gaze, if possible, softened even more but this time there was a tinge of sadness woven in amongst his eyes. It really wasn't fair of the Almighty. Giving this angel eyes that caused a flutter in him everytime he saw them. He wanted to say something, say anything to stop the sadness, because sadness had no place in eyes like that, but he didn't know what and suddenly he was too aware they hadn't started dancing yet, stuck like statues, and- "Crowley." A hand on his face, and an eruption in his human chest. "Yes?" He got out.  
  
Anyone else may not have realised what was on his mind but Aziraphale did. "Forgive me if this is silly but, that day- a year ago, I mean. When you said- when you said you lost your best friend- who were you talking about?" The sadness hit him remembering it but he couldn't help but smirk at the how oblivious Aziraphale was about this, "Angel. Who do you think?" He said, "Wouldn't fraternize with just anyone." He coughed. Please don't mention 1862. "It was you. It always has been."   
  
Then he glanced over at the record player, and with a snap of his fingers they weren't in his Mayfair flat anymore. When he looked back at Aziraphale the wide - eyed look he was giving him could convince Crowley that he did love him, too. Their position still hadn't shifted, and all Crowley wanted to do was dance with him. Aziraphale seemed to realise the air had changed, because when he glanced around his mouth widened and- "Crowley! Where- oh." A bright moon shone on them, illuminating them in a pale glow. "Why, it looks so different in the dark."   
  
They were in St James' Park, mid winter. A coating of snow took the park into another world, the christmas lights on the trees dappling the whole area in a golden white. It almost reminded Crowley of space and stars, he supposed it was part of the reason he loved Winter just that bit more than the other seasons- beautiful lights were everywhere. The pond had frozen over, glittering under the moonlight. When Aziraphale noticed where they were he had miracled thick scarves for them both. Deep red with golden - eyed black snakes along the edges for Crowley, and his classic tartan for himself (with tassels).   
  
"You know, Crowley, you really can be quite ro-"  
  
"Hm?" He said, smirking with an eyebrow raised. It couldn't have been what it sounded like... unless? "Thoughtful." He coughed, blushing. Maybe it was the cold? But Crowley was sure it had sounded like roma-  
  
"So. A dance?" Aziraphale interrupted his thoughts. "Well you don't just start it like that, angel. First" He started, trying his best not to falter in any way, "I put my hand here" he said, placing a gentle hand on Aziraphale's back and trying not to shiver. "Then, you place your arm on mine" Holding out his right arm, which Aziraphale did. Crowley knew Aziraphale enjoyed dancing, he'd let slip about his gavotte days during a late night wine session at the angel's bookshop back in the 1950's, but if he knew the steps to the waltz he wasn't telling Crowley.   
  
"And now" he said, "I take your hand in mine" Aziraphale's breath hitched, or he thought it was Aziraphale's, because his own did the same. Pesky corporal forms.   
  
And so they stood, waltz position ready and both staring, unsure and certain at the same time. Both aware something was on the verge of changing.   
  
A snap of his fingers and a small demonic miracle and Crowley did two things. No one else would be coming into the park tonight. If he was going to express his feelings he'd be damned if he got interrupted. Two, the sleek black record player was sitting on a stand nearby, staying miraculously dry despite the snow.  
  
"You can choose the song, if you'd like." Crowley uttered, he thought it was fair after all this time. Of course the lyrics and the beats of Queen would never get old, not for at least another 6000 years, but still.   
  
"Oh! Right. Well. How about-" Aziraphale snapped and Elton John started playing softly on the record player. Crowley's heart stopped. "I know I tend to keep with... older. Trends I suppose, but- I always did like this one. Reminded me of em. Of- Well it's pleasant, don't you think?"  
  
Crowley, who he believed was the closest, save for that time he saved some children in Pompeii- which Hell didn't need to know about- the closest to discorporation he had ever been. What a bastard. But his bastard. "Oh. Uh- yea. Yea it's- yea it's good." He stumbled, unsure what to say, or do, next. And so he started to dance.   
  
Round and round they went under the moonlight, Crowley found that it almost felt like he was flying again. But flying couldn't come close to being in aziraphale's arms. His eyes sparkled, they looked so much like galaxies and he found himself feeling almost like he was in a dream.   
  
"Angel" He dipped him then, and god, in all 6000 years of knowing him it seemed to be the hardest in that moment not to kiss Aziraphale. "Your eyes, they look like stars." He lifted him up and then it hit him. Oh- someone, that hadn't meant to slip out. Crowley's inner voice was now dancing along to a melody of _oh shit, oh shit, fuck, shit,_ the music all but forgetton.  
  
_Too fast._ His eyes seemed planted to the snow beneath them and he hadn't even realised they'd stopped dancing. They stood, two statues, in the dark while Crowley mentally slapped himself. Now what? He'd wanted to express how he felt but he wanted- he wanted to do it consciously not just let it slip out like he had no control of his own speech. It wasn't explicit no, but it felt just as damning.  
  
A hand on his cheek grounded him and he lifted his head to look at Aziraphale, hands trembling all of a sudden. But Aziraphale didn't look anything other than soft. The same look from outside the old hospital over a year prior. In fact, now that he thought about it, he almost- it couldn't possibly be-.  
  
Aziraphale was currently trying to let Crowley know how lovely that sounded without saying dangerous words including but not limited too; nice. Meanwhile Crowley was continuing to go through his thoughts like he was a human in an office and a very important file was needed at once.  
  
"My dear, that was. Quite kind of you." And despite himself, Crowley did not have the will to retaliate. The angel looked far too thankful and soft for that.  
  
_So excuse me forgetting, but these things I do _  
  
_You see I've forgotten if they're green or they're blue _  
  
_Anyway the thing is, what I really mean_  
  
_Yours are the sweetest eyes I've ever seen_  
  
"Right. Suppose I can be. On occasion." He said, hands still threatening to give him away. "You have rather stunning eyes yourself, you know." Oh _fuck_. Stunning? His eyes? His eyes were a reminder of his failure to The Almighty. How- and an angel of all beings. _Stunning_. "I-" And wasn't this crossing something? It didn't feel like a normal friendship anymore. Friends can compliment, yes, but this- the gaze and the atmosphere and all of it. Surely this has crossed the thick red line in Crowley's mind labelled Friendship.  
  
"I suppose I should say thank you" He said, barely, the cold and the snow around him feeling louder. "I think that could work, yes." Oh- _Better not_ had been the response previously and now- right. "Um, yea. Thank you, that was-" But his mind wasn't letting this go and he needed to say it, "Aziraphale?"  
  
By this point they had started to slowly dance again, soft snow crunching under their feet. An eyebrow asked the, 'Yes?'   
"You realise my eyes, they're a curse from the Almighty. They're not. Well no one has ever used stunning, I'll tell you that."  
  
Aziraphale had the audacity the look taken aback. Who would find them pretty, nice, _stunning_? Certainly no angel or demon. Until now, he supposed. "Well." Was he blushing? "They rather are." He stated, an air of stubbornness in his tone. And if Crowley thought he couldn't fall further for Aziraphale, he has been very wrong. "And here I can see the galaxies in them. Why did you never mention?"   
  
Galaxies? It couldn't be, surely. "Angel, the last time my eyes had galaxies I was still a saint." It came out more bitter than he'd intended. He hadn't really looked at them long enough to check, but- why would the Almighty leave them in his eyes? Weren't they meant to be taken away from him along with everything else?  
  
"I'm telling you, they're there and they're rather captivating." _Captivating,_ one more word and Crowley might melt with the snow. And then it dawned. If Aziraphale was telling him- he wouldn't lie. Not about this. Never about something like this. And god it was so much he- a sob escaped him before he could stop it, causing Aziraphale to look terribly troubled. He stopped the dance, Crowley was crying. He couldn't have that.

But where Crowley expected words he instead felt the angels arms wrapping him up in a hug. Tight as anything, stroking the back of his hair. They stood like that for a while, just the warm comfort of a hug. And now that Crowley had had a taste he thought he'd need them often.  
  
_And you can tell everybody this is your song _  
  
_It may be quite simple, but now that it's done _  
  
_I hope you don't mind, I hope you don't mind that I put down in words _  
  
_How wonderful life is while you're in the world_  
  
"I always knew you didn't deserve to Fall. You've never been like the rest." A hand rubbing his back, "I think this is Her way of showing you, Crowley, I think she's letting you know." More tears fell, but Aziraphale just hugged him tighter and uttered reassurances. "Yes you're still a demon, a whily one at that." And despite everything they both let out a laugh. "But that's who you are and that's-" Aziraphale seemed to stop, considering his next words. Crowley looked up at him as Aziraphale wiped away his tears, pinky ring glinting. Crowley spied his own where his hand had moved to the angel's shoulder.  
  
"That is why I love you." This- hold on. The night had done a 180 on Crowley, wasn't this meant to be his line? He- "As in...?" He started, never had he expected this. Crowley had always the one to express any feelings towards the other first. Even when it had ended badly. But now. Shit, he-  
  
"You. You're in love with me?" Aziraphale nodded, face lit up and hopeful. He was _hopeful. Aziraphale. Who he loved more than he had ever loved anything or anyone. Was hopeful._ "Of course I am, dear boy. More than anything."   
  
Crowley stalled in everything, breaths, thoughts. Everything. Because Aziraphale loved him. Was in love with him. Not just like he loved books or Angel Food Cake or wine. Not like a nice walk in St James' Park or a nice play. Not like a friend.   
  
"Well I'll be damn-" And goodness he hadn't said it back yet. "Me too." And well, wasn't that eloquent. And then the angel _giggled._ Oh dear. "I love you, too." And goodness he could feel himself beaming, "I have loved you for so long, Angel." Aziraphale looked close to bursting but in that lovely way that was him came out with a joke. "I bet it feels like a lifetime." He started laughing, and really, he didn't need the fairy lights to look illuminated. Crowley rolled his eyes, but there was no annoyance in his heart.

Maybe he should just go for it. So he put a hand on Aziraphale's cheek and before he could think too much about the enormous amount of time that had gone before, "Would it be alright if I kissed you?" Tone softer and more attentive than Aziraphale could ever remember hearing it. And because he could not wait any longer than Crowley could, "You may."  
  
And so they kissed under the stars, the softest touch. Crowley's hands held Aziraphale's face as Aziraphale gently ran his hands through Crowley's hair. He'd not done so since the demon had long hair which he used to braid, and it felt wonderful.  
  
Of course what Aziraphale didn't mention, what that he knew exactly the meaning of the bouquet Crowley had given him that night. He'd had quite an interest in flower meanings back during Crowley's sleep in the 19th century. They would discover this one evening a week later, after a pleasant date at the Ritz. Crowley would be astounded and Aziraphale, wide eyed and smug.  
  
_I hope you don't mind, I hope you don't mind that I put down in words_

  
_How wonderful life is while you're in the world_

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed it! I got the idea of galaxies in Crowley's eyes from yelling with goodcrowmens (check out her fics!).


End file.
